


Let's See Them Live It.

by DigitBuster



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 00:43:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21109883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitBuster/pseuds/DigitBuster
Summary: A collection of stories about Three Houses. Mostly lighthearted, and will span the entire course of the game. Spoilers will be marked appropriately at the beginning of each chapter.





	1. Cyril and Flayn Get Along

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight spoilers for Flayn, nothing outright, though.
> 
> Takes place before the game starts

“Like this?”

“Just so! You got it!”

“Really? This is easier than I thought.”

For once, Cyril lets himself relax enough to smile. When he looks up, he can see Flayn’s smiling too. In fact, she looks _overjoyed _at this development. He doesn’t know why she’s so happy about something small like this. Honestly, the look she’s giving him now is a little embarrassing. His cheeks begin to redden, and he quickly looks away. “Whaddya look so happy for? It’s just bait on a hook, I didn’t catch anything yet.”

That seems to pull her out of whatever mood she’s in. Flayn blinks and gasps before clearing her throat. Her polite smile is back, but he can still see the remnants of excitement in her eyes. “Well, all you need to do now is to cast your line! I feel like today you will catch something wonderful!”

“You really think so?” He’s seen Flayn fish before. It was almost as if she had a natural instinct for it. She’d sit at the dock, humming songs to herself as she waited, but her entire demeanor shifted once she had something on the line. That, and the haul she reeled in was always horrifyingly huge. He’s not sure if he could match that. “I’ve never really done this before…”

“I am _positive!_” She replies, the excitement in her eyes growing. She balls both hands into fists and pumps one into the air. “My intuition about fishing has never led me astray!”

Somehow he feels exhausted by hearing her say that, but again, he can’t help his smile. “If ya say so.”

With that, he casts his line into the pond. He didn’t know much about fishing, aside from having to wait a lot. He would always see various students sit at the dock for hours just one fish, so he knew the waiting was normal. Still, he couldn’t help but feel fidgety with Flayn’s gaze on him. Maybe it was just the presence of another person. Or maybe it was because it was Flayn. She was such a mysterious girl, roaming around the monastery with little to no regard to what others were doing. She seemed to be the exact opposite of her brother. Seteth was strict and careful, while Flayn seemed to not only carefree, but care_less_. Maybe she’s lived a sheltered life?

There’s a lot of things he’s wondered about Flayn. He’s only been at Garreg Mach for about five months, so he figures it’s not enough to _truly _know her yet. But being acquainted with all her little quirks compared to everyone else made her stand out, even more than her brother or Lady Rhea. She wasn’t particularly troublesome, but she just seemed very odd. The way she spoke was strange. Sometimes she would say words and phrases that made no sense to him, and despite his fluency in the language, he wouldn’t understand what she was telling him. One of the knights (A blonde and tall one, he thinks her name is Catherine) said the way she spoke was “fancy” and “kind of old sounding”, which made him even more curious. But it wasn’t just how she spoke, it was the way she acted as well. Something about it was difficult to place his finger on. He had seen enough nobles to know how they acted. Although he associated a lot of them with cruelty, he knew that in some regards they were expected to act polite and upstanding, and if you put those words to Flayn, you wouldn’t be wrong at all. But there was something _different _about it. When looking at how the students acted, even the more uptight ones, and looking at how she acted, there was distinct dissimilarity between the two behaviours. But try as he might, he couldn’t put a word to it. And apparently, neither could anyone else.

The last thing that stuck out to him were some of her belongings. He didn’t have knowledge of Fodlan’s history, nor did he care to, but there was one time he found a map that belonged to her. He’s not sure what it was a map of, but he had noticed the word at the very corner were familiar to something he had seen before. So he went to go dig up what he had seen, and sure enough, it was another map with the same word in the corner. He asked Tomas what the map was, and the old man simply laughed and said, “Why, that’s the current map of Enbarr.”

This Enbarr and the Enbarr Flayn had were completely different.

He’s been wondering how she got it ever since. It wasn’t something that really bothered him per se, but he was curious about it. Who gave her such an old map? Was it Seteth? Their parents? Where _were _their parents anyway? Where they orphaned like he was? How did they know Lady Rhea? How long have they been here? Maybe they were royalty and incognito? Why was it that Seteth seemed so normal compared to her? Did they--

“Oh! Oh, oh, Cyril!” Flayn cries, snapping him back to reality. One hand was firmly gripping his shoulder, and the other pointed out into the water. “You’ve got one! Hurry! Do _not _let it get away!”

He blinks, turning his head to stare dumbly at the pole in front of him. It jerks forward and he yelps, grip tightening to keep it from flying out of his hands. This fish was pulling harder than he thought it would! Was every fish like that?

“Yes! You are doing excellent!” Flayn cheers from behind him. “I believe in you! You can best this creature!”

“_Creature?” _The pole jerks again, and he pulls it back with a swear. Cyril plants his feet firmly on the dock, anxiety now blooming in his chest. “What do you mean creature? Quit talking weird, it’s just a fish!”

“Did you not see? Its shadow was huge!” He can hear the excitement in her voice, and the anxiety grows. “I think you’ve attracted something special!”

He’s not sure if he likes that. Not only is Flayn watching him, now she was expectant too. If he messed up, that would be _embarrassing. _He doesn’t think Flayn is the type to tease, but he’s never really spoken to her before. In fact, this is the first time they’ve really done anything together at all!

The fish tugs at the line again, and this time Cyril staggers a few steps forward. He was _really _nervous now. Either he would catch this fish by some miracle, or this thing was going to pull him into the lake. If he was by himself he would’ve already let go by now, but Flayn was watching him. He’s not trying to impress her by any means, but still! He had _some _pride!

Just then, he feels arms wrap around his waist and grab him before he can be jerked forward again. He stiffens uncomfortably at the sudden contact, but to his surprise, the arms start pulling him back as the fish tries to throw him forward. Cyril turn behind him to see Flayn, her eyes set on his line, with the widest smile he’s ever seen on her face. He can’t remember a time he’s ever seen her this happy.

It makes him feel a little bit better.

“Alright, Cyril!” She exclaims, her voice jubilant. “I will be supporting you from back here! All you have to do is pull!”

He nods at her, then sets his sights back on the line. He grips the rod tighter and grounds himself again, readying himself to begin tugging again. There’s no way this beast in the water could last forever, right? 

He starts feeling resistance again, and he lets himself and Flayn be pulled forward just a bit. However, when the resistance settles he brings his arms back, pulling with whatever strength he could muster. Flayn follows suit, pulling him back and keeping him rooted in place. He felt good about this! He could feel the fish getting closer to the dock, closer to them, almost solidifying his victory. So he pulls again, and with a final tug and cry…

Both he and Flayn end up in the lake.

He’s not sure how it happened, but he’s here now. The pole isn’t in his hand anymore. Thankfully, he knows how to swim, but the anxiety from earlier return for a different reason.

Where was Flayn?

She was behind him, wasn’t she? So where was she now? He looks around him, but there’s no sight of the green haired girl. Could she swim? Did she sink? Where was she?

Before he had the time to think further, he felt arms around his waist again. This time they felt different, though. They felt… bigger? Stronger? There was something unsettling about them, which causes a rush of panic to course through him. He opens his mouth to yell, but in doing so only manages to welcome a rush of water into his lungs.

The experience is short lived, however. Whatever grabbed him soon pulls him upwards, and just like that, he’s face up on the cobblestone, coughing and gasping for air while a figure looms over him.

“Cyril?! Cyril, are you alright?!”

Of course, it’s Flayn.

He coughs again, spitting up some water in the process. He then sits up, wiping his face to get a clearer look at her. She was soaked, through and through, but seemed far too composed for someone who was just thrown into the water. His thoughts didn’t linger on that though, because the look she was giving him implied that if he didn’t answer soon she might start assuming the worse.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” He grabs the hem of his shirt with both hands and squeezes some of the water out. “Just soaked, like you.”

Flayn frowns and dips her head. “I am _so _sorry, Cyril. I did not expect it to be that powerful.”

“Nah, it’s fine. It wasn’t on purpose, so I ain’t mad.” The boy rises to his feet, holding out a hand for Flayn to grab. “How about you? Are you okay? Seteth’ll get real mad at me if you end up sick because of me.”

“I’m fine.” She grabs his hand and pulls herself up to stand beside him.“I am just grateful I was able to pull you out! I was not sure if you were able to swim or not, and--”

“Wait, huh?” Cyril interrupts. “That was you?”

“Yes, of course.” She smiles at him gently. “Who else would it have been if not me?”

Cyril stares at her. That unsettling grip? That was her? His gaze falls to her hands. They weren’t much smaller than his, but they _felt _like they were. They even _looked _too delicate. And when she grabbed him earlier, it had just felt like her. It felt like Flayn, not… not whatever it is that he encountered underwater!

He must have been silent for too long, because when he looked back up at her again she was frowning. It wasn’t an upset frown, rather, more concerned.

“Is something the matter?” She asks, stepping forward. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“Um.. no.” He smiles awkwardly, quickly thinking of something to tell her. “I was just… wondering how ya pulled me up. You’re kinda small.”

That seems to do the trick. Flayn gasps and puffs her cheeks with a huff. “How rude! That is _no _basis to dismiss my strength!”

Although it was just something he said to change the topic, he can’t help but smirk again. She was so funny. “But ya look so delicate.”

“Now listen here! I am _taller _than you--”

“By like an inch.”

“It does not matter!” She cries, exasperated. “We are the same size! It isn’t unbelievable that I would be able to pull you up!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I’ll believe you. We’re still soaked, though,” he replies, gesturing to his clothes. “I got work t’do, and you’re gonna get sick. You should get changed.”

She stares at him with a pout, and for a moment he thinks she might keep arguing about her size. However she sighs and nods, lifting her hand to give a dismissive wave. “Yes, okay. I will get changed.”

“Good. Alright, seeya--”

“Wait a moment, Cyril. Just where are you going?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I got work to do.”

She gasps and tuts. “That simply will not do! If I can get sick, so can you!”

He’s about to argue that it’s fine, that he’ll probably dry off as he works, but she already has her grip on his wrist and is beginning to drag him away. “Come on, now. We are getting you a dry set of clothes this instant!”

“Wh- hey! Quit pulling, Flayn!”

“No! If I let go, you’ll run off. Now come!”

He frowns at her. She really wasn’t going to let go, was she? “Fine, I’m coming! You don’t need to drag me.”

She looks back to him with a smile, and again, there was a different feeling he got from it. It wasn’t a polite but distant smile, nor was it the ecstatic smile she had shown him earlier. It was a warm smile, one full of familiarity. 

It was… nice. He was so used to fighting, to insults, grueling work, sneers, looks of distrust… to have Flayn smile at him like this made him feel something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not with the Almyran army, not at House Goneril, not even with Lady Rhea when she had taken him back with her to the monastery.

Flayn’s smile made him feel like he was welcomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, I've always wanted to see the two of them interact. I think they'd be good friends <:)


	2. Hubert and Petra Play Chess

Two students sit underneath the gazebo, a chess board on the table between them. One has only a handful of black remaining pieces on his side, yet his expression remains calm and composed. The other has more pieces on hers, this time white in color, though her lip is twisted into a frown. She watches his hand move, and in an instant, her king is captured and the game is his. A groan of defeat escapes her lips and she slumps in her seat.

“This game is difficult to grasp,” Petra says, her sights wandering to the pieces she captured. “It feels impossible to be winning, no matter what action I take.”

“Is that how you really feel?” Hubert responds, rolling her king in his hand. A smile comes to his face as he places it back down in front of her. “If so, consider me fooled.”

Petra blinks. She looks back up to Hubert with a furrowed brow, and he can already tell what she’s trying to do. It’s a quirk he noticed a while back, around the second year after she had started living in Enbarr. Whenever she was trying to figure out someone’s intentions, she would scrunch her nose slightly. He had half a mind about telling her about it, but he found the tell amusing.

“Don’t give me such a suspicious look. I’m telling the truth.” Hubert begins to collect his own pieces, leaving hers remaining where they were. “It seemed to me that you understood quite a bit from our match right now.”

Petra’s expression hardens. She places her hand to her chin and looks down at the board, her gaze shifting between the pieces he had captured and the ones she still had. Did she truly have such a difficult time believing him? 

“I am afraid I do not have understanding,” she mumbles, eyes looking back to him. “What is your meaning?”

Hubert chuckles, beginning to pick up the white pieces he captured. These were fewer than his own. “Have you ever played against anyone else besides me or Lady Edelgard?”

At that, she shakes her head. “I have not. I have not found the chance to ask.”

“I see. That is certainly a shame.” He reaches for her king, taking it back in his hand and unceremoniously dropping it into the sack with the rest. “You’re actually very good at this game.”

He expects her to ask him again what he means, but the response he gets is quite different. Her jaw sets, and her mouth is pressed in a thin line. Hubert raises a brow at her, his smile widening just a bit.

Was she irritated?

“You look upset,” he comments. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Do not mock me,” she replies in a warning tone.

“Mock? I’m not mocking you.”

“And yet, you are still smiling as if you are.”

“You don’t believe me because of my smile?”

She opens her mouth to say something further, but stops. After a moment of silence she gives a sigh of resignation. “...No. No, it is not that.”

The princess rubs her temple, then looks to the side. “When I play against you or Lady Edelgard, I have much frustration. It is feeling that the knowledge I have is not enough, and is not meaning anything. So I am not understanding how I am good when I am always losing.” 

“Losing doesn’t always mean you aren’t skilled, Petra,” Hubert says, placing the bag full of pieces on the table. “You managed to capture a majority of my pieces.”

She shakes her head. “Yes, only because you were letting me. Was it not a part of your planning?”

“It was, but you took more than I anticipated.” He taps his finger on the board. “You were even close to backing me into a corner.”

“I am not believing you.”

“Of course you don’t, so let me explain.” The man relaxes in his seat. “Do you remember when you were younger? How Lady Edelgard would come to your room to play games with you?”

Petra nods, and he continues. “She would overtake you at every turn. Frankly, you were awful at it. I wondered why she even continued to play with you. Each day I would watch you lose pitifully, frustration twisting your face, and wonder if Lady Edelgard was trying to make you angry on purpose.”

“But one day, I noticed it. Your strategy was completely different than before. You still looked like you were miserable, but you had managed to adapt to the game at a terrifying pace.”

“Terrifying?” Petra asks, a look of concern now on her face. “I did not mean to be scaring you, Hubert. You have my apology.”

“Not  _ literally,”  _ he corrects with an amused lilt. “I’m saying, you adjusted your strategies faster than I had anticipated. Certainly faster than one would expect for someone who didn’t practice. And you’re still doing it, whether you realize it or not. I find it fascinating, even though you hold such disdain for the game.”

She’s silent again. He can see her nose beginning to crinkle before she stops. Instead, she begins to smile sheepishly, her gaze now past him.

“I am understanding now. That is a very kind thing for you to be.. uh.. for you to say.” She looks to the table, one hand coming up to scratch her cheek. “It is not that I am disliking chess… I just do not like when I am losing.”

“Naturally. Losing isn’t enjoyable for anyone.” Not that he was familiar with that feeling. Usually his games with Edelgard would come to a standstill with no victor. “You would secure far more victories if you played against the other students, even with that pesky habit of yours.”

That earns him a confused look. “Habit?”

“Yes, habit. It’s curious, but you never make plays that sacrifice your pieces. It’s clear to me you intend to keep them all unless you absolutely  _ must  _ be rid of them.”

“Oh. Yes. That is how I am choosing to play.”

“Why is that? I’m sure you’ve already caught on to the fact that chess is a game about sacrifice, yes?”

“Because…” She pauses again, searching her head for the right words. “I am thinking if I learn this way, it will have much benefit.”

“How so?”

“Chess is a game, so the losses are not making much of a difference in my heart. The king and queen… they have much importance in the game, yes?”

“That would be correct.”

“There is only one of each, so I should be putting all my power to be protecting them, right?”

“If you wish to put it simply, yes. Your heaviest losses would be with those two.”

“Yes, so it would be wisest to do whatever I can to be keeping them safe, and taking your king.”

“Again, very simple, but not incorrect.” Hubert raises a brow. “What are you trying to get at?”

“I am saying… chess is only a game. And I can be thinking of each piece as something… er... expendable, in order to grasp victory.” Petra reaches into the bag, pulling out a white pawn. “But a real battle is different. Each soldier is having importance.”

He was beginning to understand. “You’re saying in a real battle you can’t afford to make careless decisions like that.”

“Yes, exactly.” She smiles and returns the piece to the sack. “So, I make an effort to be playing as if it were a real battle. I will avoid sacrifice, unless I am truly needing it.”

How interesting. To think she would be putting such a serious thought into a game of chess…

He can’t help the laughter that escapes him.

Petra’s eyes widen, and there’s a hint of red that dust her cheeks soon after. She then frowns, turning her head away and crossing her arms. “I do not see what is so amusing about what I am saying.”

“Forgive me, Petra. I mean no offense.” Hubert replies, exhaling deeply as he feels the laughter in his chest die down. “I have never met someone who had considered this game as earnestly as you. It surprised me.”

“And you  _ laugh?” _

“Yes, but please, do not think I’m mocking you. I find it admirable, almost impressive.” He smirks. “And truly, very much like you.”

Petra sighs again, a confused frown now on her face. “You are making little sense, Hubert.”

“I suppose I am. My apologies.” Hubert stands, placing the sack of pieces in front of her and nudging the board towards her. “Here.”

She stands as well, taking both items into her hands. “You are wanting me to put it away today?”

He shakes his head, then gestures towards the direction of the classrooms. “Do so if you desire, but I think you should try to play against someone new. You’ll see that you’re better than you think.”

“You are strangely kind today, Hubert.” There’s an appreciative smile on her face, one he’s certain she’s never directed at him before. “But, I have gratitude for it. I will seek another opponent, and… maybe find a way to be defeating you and Lady Edelgard.”

He can’t help but chuckle at that last comment. Her mind was set on this, was it?

“I will be waiting expectantly for that day, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently got Hubert and Petra's A support, and there's something so weirdly pleasant about it... I like the idea of them being unusual friends.
> 
> Hubert might be a little too nice here. I tried my best, haha
> 
> Writing wise, this might be a little stiff. Gotta practice, practice, practice...


	3. Leonie and Byleth Meet as Teenagers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU were Byleth is present when Jeralt meets Leonie

Leonie doesn't like Byleth.

It’s not as if she _ dislikes _ them, per se. They didn’t _ really _ do anything that warranted offense.

They just seem… like they don’t like _ her. _

It starts out when they first meet. Leonie proudly holds her hand forward, declaring her name and her status as Jeralt’s apprentice. Byleth, for what it’s worth, takes her hand and shakes, but after that they drop it completely and walk straight to Jeralt. She only learns their name when he reprimands them and instructs them to introduce themselves properly.

Then, it bleeds into when they train together. Byleth doesn't talk or emote much, she learns, but they're a fierce fighter. Their strikes are relentless and for her, hard to keep up with, so it takes all of her energy not to be knocked on her back right as they start. Her defeat, while bitter, wasn’t the thing that stuck in her mind. Rather, it was how they look at their hand afterwards, and with a dismissive hum, mumble, “Too fragile…”

Lastly, it's when they ate. Leonie didn’t care about whether she used utensils or not, and to her relief, it didn’t seem like Byleth did either. The two of them ate in silence, and for once, she felt like she could be truly comfortable in their presence. But they suddenly stop, wipe their hands on their trousers and look around for something. She looks at them curiously and leans towards them, only flinching back when they turn back to her and hand her a fork. She takes it against her better judgement, and before she can ask why they gave it to her, they go, “It’s not good to eat with your hands.”

Leonie couldn’t read them, and that just made her angrier. She had no way of telling if any of this was intentional or not, and she _ hates _ it. She hates not being able to figure people out. And as luck would have it, she also happened to be a _ terrible _ judge of character. But even then, Byleth was a cut above the rest when it came to being unreadable. If they meant no wrong, then all of this anger was displaced and she could get on with her life and her training. But if Jeralt happened to raise a little _ monster _of a child (which was odd to say, because they seemed to be around the same age) and they just managed to hide it well, she felt like sooner or later they were going to get into a fight.

Jeralt runs drills with the both of them the next day. Naturally, he spends more time with her since she wasn’t used to melee combat. She was a little embarrassed at the attention, but for the most part, she was delighted. Jeralt was just so amazing to her, and even though there were a multitude of corrections to point out about everything she was doing, she was just happy he was entertaining the idea of being her mentor.

But when she catches a glimpse of Byleth standing a little ways off, looking over to them with that unreadable expression, the delight turns into shame. Did they think ill of her for trying to take their father’s attention away from them? Did they look down on her because she was a novice? A ball of negativity begins to form in the pit of her stomach, twisting her face with a sour frown. Jeralt notices right away, and to her dismay he stops instructing her to ask if she’s alright. She fumbles with her words, giving him such an awkwardly worded and transparent lie that she’s in disbelief when he decides not to press further. A bit of relief washes over her as he walks back to Byleth, who was now staring directly at her. She stares back, and has half a mind to glare at them, when they shake their head.

What was _ that _supposed to mean?!

She doesn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. Were they mocking her? Making fun of her? Did they just so happen to be insufferable like she thought?

It’s late that night when she confronts them about it. Jeralt and his men are drinking with a few other adults in the village, and for some reason, Byleth doesn’t join them this time. Instead, they come to her, eyes as piercing as ever, stalking her every step and scrutinizing her every move.

And she’s had enough.

“What is _ with _you!” She shouts, turning quickly on her heel to face the other teen. “Why do you keep bothering me!?”

To her surprise, Byleth actually startles. With their eyes wide like that, she thought the almost resembled a cat. It doesn’t last though, and before she knows it, all traces of emotion are gone, save for something… sad?

Were they sad?

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” they reply, again completely monotone. “I’m sorry.”

She scoffs, throwing her hands up. “Are you? You’ve been nothing but rude to me ever since you got here!”

“I have?”

“Wh--” Another scoff. “Yes! _ Yes, _you have!”

They keep fixing her with that blank gaze, putting their hand to their chin as if the memories were locked away in the deep recesses of their mind. “I don’t remember trying to be rude to you.”

“Are you serious? Come on!” She begins counting on her fingers. “When I first met you, when we trained together, a few days ago when we were eating…!”

Byleth continues staring, and _ ooooooooh _ she hates it. She hates that she can’t read them at all. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t the only one, it just mattered that she _ couldn’t. _

Finally their expression changes, although only slightly. There’s a hint of a frown on their face, so faint that she could have sworn it was imagined. The only thing that persuaded her otherwise was the way they shook their head, brows slightly creasing to match.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude,” they start. “I forgot to introduce myself. Usually Pops does it for me. When we were training, I went too hard on you and was trying to remind myself to be gentle. And when we were eating…”

They scratch the back of their head and look to the side. “Pops says I should stop eating with my hands. He said I could get a bad reputation if I keep doing that. I don’t really care, but I thought you might’ve since you like him so much.”

Huh?

Leonie stares at them for a little bit, at a loss for words. She can feel heat beginning to rise on her cheeks as the embarrassment sets in. They really _ didn’t _ mean any harm! They were just _ weird! _

“Goddess--” She covers her face and groans. “Oh, Goddess. I’m so sorry. I totally thought you were an asshole.”

Byleth shakes their head again. “It’s okay. A lot of people think I am.”

She throws down her hands, giving an incredulous laugh. “Byleth, that’s not _ good! _”

“I know.” They shrug. “But I don’t really care. I don’t know them, and it’s Pops that has to deal with them anyway.”

She can’t believe what she’s hearing. The way they speak, their attitude, their outlook on life…

They sound exactly like Jeralt.

She feels bad for laughing, but she can’t help it. She’s horribly embarrassed, but also _ relieved. _Here she was, begrudging them for something they didn’t mean, when in reality they were just a little strange. She was relieved. She was relieved that she didn’t have to have some sort of grudge against the child of her mentor, and for the fact that the child of her mentor seemed to have a good head on their shoulders.

Speaking of Byleth, they’ve gone back to staring at her, although now there’s a faint trace of confusion on their face. They tilt their head, looking her up and down, before asking, “Are you okay? What’s so funny?”

Leonie shakes her head, then nods to correct herself. After a few minutes she clears her throat and stands upright. “It’s nothing. Everything’s fine.”

This time they frown, and she’s almost thrown into another fit of laughter with how unusual it is for them.

“Again with the bad lies…” They shake their head. “You made Pops worried with the last one.”

She turns to Byleth, eyes wide. “What? Really? Did I?”

“Yeah. I thought you were mad at him, so I shook my head to say sorry for him, and later he was telling me about how he thought maybe he was going too hard on you…”

“Oh, Goddess... “ Her face blooms red again, and she reaches out to shake Byleth’s shoulder. “You need to tell him that I’m fine. I’m so embarrassed…”

A nod. “Okay, I will. You get red a lot, Leonie.”

“I do not! This night’s just been the worst.”

“Has it? I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She smiles at them and gently nudges their shoulder. “You also made it a whole lot better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was really fun to write! I kind of wish Leonie had a personal connection to Byleth during childhood, but that would just make their teaching position more unprofessional than it already is, huh.
> 
> Also, did you know Leonie apparently eats a lot of things with her hands? Lorenz admonishes her for it. She's so perfect.


	4. Lorenz and Lysithea Have Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor spoilers about the Golden Deer supports

Her hands were at her hips, brows slightly furrowed and posture straight, when she made her request.

“Later, let's have  _ your  _ favorite tea.”

Lysithea demanding things from him wasn’t strange. What  _ was  _ strange, however, was this particular request. The two of them had tea together often, despite their usual interactions suggesting otherwise. As long as Lorenz didn’t bring up her status or her future (Recently, she had disclosed the reason why. He felt horrible about pushing her so much in light of it), they could easily hold a conversation for as long as their time permitted them. For Lysithea, said time was usually short since she insisted on keeping herself busy, but it was at these moments that he had truly gotten to know her.

Which is exactly why this confused him. It was no secret that Lysithea adored sweets, no matter how much she tended to deny it. She would hide away with cakes in the library, light up when the Professor brought her something sweet to eat, be one of the first people to indulge in one of Mercedes’ home-made goods, and it did nothing but give away her very ill kept secret. He was glad it did, though. When he indulged her by getting her some of her favorite sweets, or brewing her favorite blend of tea, the smile she wore was among the brightest she had. Being privy to one of the more personal details of her life only made him want to bring out that smile more.

But again, today she asked for something different. Today, she wanted to indulge  _ him. _ And his tastes didn’t exactly lean towards the sweet side.

He fretted over his choice in blend for a little bit, but eventual settled for Bergamot. It was a favorite among nobility, and even if it wasn’t  _ Lysithea’s  _ favorite, there’s no doubt she’s had it once or twice. It was a fresh, but standard flavor. In his opinion, while it wasn’t too grand or fanciful, it made it a near perfect blend.

He sets everything up as usual, a saucer and cup on each side of the table, the kettle in the middle, and a selection of snacks situated next to it. Today he managed to get some of her favorite arranges of cookies, and he can hardly contain his chuckle when he imagines her smile at the sight of them.

However, when she arrives, she’s wearing a sour frown. Her hair is a bit mussed, as is her uniform, and her eyes held a certain quality of fatigue that he’s learned to recognize.

“You look worn,” he says as he pours tea into their cups. “Did someone wrap you up in something?”

“Raphael and Flayn,” she replies immediately, pinching the bridge of her nose. “They managed to catch me on the way to the library and had me running around doing all sorts of pointless things!”

“Is that so? I’m surprised Flayn would partake…”

“That girl is every bit as excitable as Raphael is.” Lysithea huffs, taking the cup in her hands and blowing the contents gently. “I swear, she appears so gentle but the minute you excite her with something she can’t sit still.”

Lorenz chuckles at her comment with a nod of agreement. Flayn was the newest addition to their class, and he had caught on to some of her… eccentricities early on. Still, he didn’t think it was anything too severe. In fact, he would argue that her childlike wonder complimented her princess like appearance very well.

“This is your favorite too?” Lysithea asks, interrupting his train of thought. He smiles.

“Indeed. I’m sure you are familiar with it.”

“Of course I am. A lot of people like it.” A fond smile comes to her face. “It’s also one of Edelgard’s favorites.”

“Edelgard?” He hums in approval. “How interesting. I may have to sit down with her one of these days.”

“Make sure you behave yourself.” A teasing smile comes to her lips as she takes another sip. “If you don’t you’ll be at the receiving end of Hubert’s glare the entire time.”

At that, Lorenz tuts in irritation. “I am always on my best behavior.”

Lysithea laughs, and they fall into their usual discussions. Aside from her occasional cutting quips, their discussion was mostly mundane. Schoolwork, their classes, some rumors, magic, their professor… they discussed whatever the mood called for, and he took great pleasure in the fact. Out of all of his classmates, it was Lysithea that could hold the best conversation without irritating him. And it pleased him to know she was enjoying his company as well instead of merely humoring him.

He had gotten so engrossed in their conversation, that it slipped his mind to be discreet when monitoring how she was enjoying her tea. When she finishes her cup and reaches for the kettle to pour herself some more, he smiles widely in excitement. 

She catches it.

And she frowns. He shrinks.

“Why are you smiling like that, Lorenz?” By the tone of her voice, he figures she already knows why. He shakes his head.

“No particular reason,” he responds, clearing his throat. “I’m just… I’m pleased you’re enjoying the tea.”

“Truly?” He winces at how unconvinced she sounds. The cup comes to her lips again and she takes a long sip. When she lowers it again, her mouth is pressed into an irritated frown. “I enjoyed it  _ more  _ when you didn’t look at me like I was a child trying a new food for the first time.”

He sighs in resignation. “I didn’t mean to--”

She cuts him off with a huff and looks to the side. Her anger seems to have faded, but the way her brows furrowed still made him feel guilty.

“Lysithea.”

Her sights return to him, but she doesn’t turn her head.

“You know I think very highly of you.”

There’s a hum of acknowledgement, her expression softening a bit. She still looked upset, but it’s better than nothing.

“I just… know your affinity for sweets, is all.” He pauses, waiting for her to deny it. When she doesn’t, he takes it as permission to continue. “I’m delighted you enjoy the tea, especially since it’s one of my favorites.”

“Is that so?” There’s still an accusatory edge to her voice, but it seems to be a little gentler. 

“Very much so.”

There’s another pause, this one a little longer than the last. Lorenz sighs again his cheeks beginning to redden in embarrassment. She really wouldn’t give up on this, would she?

“Perhaps…” He clears his throat again, placing his fist in front of his mouth while he did so. “I was expecting you to dislike it and had been worrying.”

A raise of the brow.

“But I now see my worries were unfounded. My apologies, Lysithea.”

She finally turns her head back to him, her expression unreadable. However, when she picks her cup to drink again, there’s a small (yet triumphant) smile on her face.

“I forgive you,” she replies simply. She didn’t need to say anything else, because Lorenz could feel the aura of smugness she had around her for managing to coax that out of him.

He huffs and frowns at her, but when her smile widens, he can’t help but start smiling as well.

She had a world of worries on her shoulders, and he could afford to lighten it some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one gave me a bit of trouble! But it's finally done.
> 
> I like their friendship a lot... I wanted to give some attention to it


End file.
